


As For the Best Leaders

by pchberrytea



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: EVERYONE - Freeform, Emmett outranks everyone, Gen, Slice of Life, Sort Of, if you can really count the musings of an npc cat as that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pchberrytea/pseuds/pchberrytea
Summary: "As for the best leaders, the people do not notice their existence. The next best, the people honor and praise."-Lao TzuGrizzled, greyed veteran Emmett has been in command of the Brotherhood of Steel since he was but an adolescent. Now, his armies have been brought to the Commonwealth to deal with the greatest threat they've ever faced.These are his musings on their missions.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 17





	As For the Best Leaders

The sound of boots hitting the floor above stirred him from his slumber. It had been another long night tending to his duties and today was certain to be another long day. Nobody knew better than he did, though, that every day was long once you had given your life to running the Brotherhood of Steel. 

He yawned, stretched long so that the oxygen could reach all the way from the tips of his ears to the very bottoms of his toes before he slipped from his bed – the most comfortable on the whole of the Prydwen, he might boast, but he’d worked day in and day out ever since his youth for the rank that afforded him these comforts. 

The cold of the metal floor when his feet touched ground was a reminder of all of that hard work, but it was no matter. 

Emmett had an airship to run. 

He was running late, this much was true, so he had to resign himself to the quickest bath to clean his whiskers before he strode over to the desk of his most loyal subordinate for his morning reports. 

“Proctor,” he greeted as he hopped up onto Proctor’s desk for both the report and his morning meal. Canned mirelurk, today. Canned mirelurk _most_ days, in fact, but as much as he’d prefer something fresh, it was another reminder of the life of service he’d committed himself to. 

It kept him humble. Grounded. 

He took a sniff of the stale, recycled air of his ship and caught the scent of whatever slop passed as a meal for his soldiers and couldn’t help but to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Cram again. 

He was grateful for his mirelurk. 

While Proctor personally prepared his meal, Emmett scanned the files and reports on the desk. Many of them seemed fairly unimportant and smelled of rads and dust, a couple of the ones written on flimsier parchment made a crinkling noise as he stepped over them during his inspections. They were obviously too frail to be worth Proctor’s time, so he made sure to crinkle them further and flick them to the ground in disapproval. 

He tried not to like doing it _too_ much, throwing his subordinates’ hard work to the ground, but that sort of display of indignation was the only thing that ever seemed to keep any of them in line. 

Satisfied that the noisy reports had been dealt with, he eyed a patch of yellow and blue that stuck out from the grey and black that littered the rest of the desk. _Ah_. Another one of those picture reports about that axe-wielding maniac that must be on the loose. 

Emmett wondered for a moment if there had been sightings of him in this new wasteland – it would explain why his second had mobilized the armies so quickly without so much as a briefing. Out of curiosity, Emmett batted at it to bring it to Proctor’s attention. 

“Oh, that.” Proctor said with a deep frown as he opened the cover for Emmett to appraise. What he saw inside horrified him - their foe had been vanquished, apparently, and then somehow _resurrected_. “And _look_ , some degenerate has gone and dog eared the pages. It was a rare edition, too.” 

The fools. 

Pointy, crisply-eared pages were clearly superior this floppy mess. Pointy ears, _cat_ ears, that would not damage such an important document the way that dog ones did. 

Emmett sneezed in disgust and Proctor mused in agreement before placing Emmett’s meal in front of him. Noise that drifted from the mess hall down the corridor reminded him once again that he was running late if his crew was eating. 

_Loudly_. 

He winced when he heard the ring of cafeteria trays and cutlery clanking into the dog-forsaken metal sinks to be washed and he scarfed the rest of his meal down as quickly as he could manage, wanting to keep his pace one step ahead of everyone else. 

_Too_ fast; his stomach lurched with a strong wind that moved the ship.

He paused for a moment to get his bearings and gave his whiskers one last wipe-down before he hopped down from the desk. 

It was high time he pay a visit to the command deck and speak to Max about this axe murderer mess.

**Author's Note:**

> This may damn well be the most ridiculous thing I've ever written in my life and by God does it bring me joy.


End file.
